What Really Happened
by eleanoralovesananias
Summary: America accidentally discovers a secret England and France have been hiding for centuries, and in so doing drags the rest of the world into a crazy adventure to save him from the two furious nations. Contains GerIta, USUK, and maybe implied Lithuania/America if you squint.
1. America, What Have You Done?

America knocked on England's door. "Hello?" he called. There was no answer. After knocking a couple more times, he started to get worried. He pressed his ear to the door; now he could hear angry voices from inside. He tried the doorknob. Locked. America took a deep breath, stepped away from the door, and slammed his shoulder into it, smashing it out of its hinges using an old trick Japan had taught him.  
He stopped and listened, but the angry voices from the other room hadn't even faltered. Whoever was arguing, they were really angry. America wondered who it was.  
He crept through the elaborate sitting room, stuffing back his giggles at England's taste in furniture. The arguing was coming from the parlor. He snuck to the doorway and peered in.  
There, arguing fiercely, were England and - you guessed it - France. That didn't surprise America. What he did wonder is what France was doing in England's house. He listened to their fighting, trying to figure out what was going on.  
"It wasn't my fault! If he hadn't tried to take over my territory(I am NOT going to say 'vital regions'), he wouldn't be dead right now!" yelled England.  
"Oh, so you're saying zat's a good reason for murder?" taunted France.  
England was turning purple now, and of course getting those zombie eyes he's so well known for. "I didn't kill him!" he screamed. "You killed him, and you know it!"  
At that, France stepped forward and smacked his enemy across the face, and America was horrified to see blood appear on his cheek. The blow knocked England to his knees, where he continued to glare hatefully at France. "I'll tell them you did it," England said. "I'll tell them you killed Rome."  
At that, the eavesdropper let out a uncontrollable gasp and stumbled backward, landing on the floor. Both countries stopped and listened. "Someone's listening," said England. They both started going towards the door.  
America scrambled up off the floor and ran like he was running for his life, which he really might have been. He certainly thought he was. But as he got to the door, his shirt caught on a splinter of the fallen door.  
"No! No!" America shouted. He ripped his shirt off the splinter, tearing a piece off, and ran like the wind.  
England and France got to the door right after him. They both stared in amazement at the wreck of the door. Then England noticed the small piece of fabric stuck in the doorway. He took it out and stared at it, realizing who it belonged to. His fist clenched, crushing it. "America," he snarled.

America's life was now officially in danger.


	2. What Is Going On?

The next day, Germany sat down in his chair, waiting for the World Meeting to start. Everyone came, one by one - except America. He frowned as he scanned the room. Maybe he had just missed him. Nope. America was most definitely not here. Finally, after everyone waited and fidgeted for what seemed like hours, he decided he was going to have to start the meeting himself. Everyone stared at him as he got up and went to the front of the room.  
Germany cleared his throat. "Um... well, we're all waiting for America. But if he hasn't come by now, I don't think he's going to. So, uh... let's just go ahead and start."  
Germany was relieved when England got up to speak and he could go back to his seat. It was weird, not having America there. America was always the one who opened the World Meeting, who led them in discussions (well, arguments really) about all of his insane ideas. He hoped America would be back tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Japan had noted all of this and more. He was watching England and France, who were staring at each other with more than their usual anger. In fact, the looks they were giving each other were straying beyond the boundaries of rivalry and into the land of hatred. They obviously had something to do with America's disappearance.

But of all people, it was N. Italy who noticed the critical piece of information that everyone else had missed. Because there, still clutched in England's hand, was the scrap of fabric from America's shirt. Italy recognized it, and more - he saw the small bloodstain from America's being pricked in the arm several times while trying to get away. His mind immediately went to places not to be discussed in polite company. Was America dead? What's going to happen next? Find out next time!

P.S. Muah ha ha ha ha... cliffhanger.


	3. The Axis Reunite!

Meanwhile, far, far away, America was running for his life. He had no idea where he was, he hadn't eaten or slept in days, and he was absolutely convinced that England and France were right behind him. His hair was even crazier than usual, he was filthy, his face was flushed and purple from running so hard, his clothes were in rags, and he generally looked like he'd been through a train wreck. But he was still alive, so none of that mattered.  
Currently, he was running through a vast snowy world blanketed in complete, utter whiteness. It looked like he was running in a blank canvas. At last his breath gave out, and he collapsed in the snow, sprawled out like a broken doll with his sides heaving. He barely managed to open his eyes as a shadow fell across him. Through blurry, exhausted eyes he saw a familiar-looking face.  
"America? Vat are you doing here? Vy veren't you at the Vorld Meeting? Are you okay?" Unable to catch his breath enough to respond, America blacked out.

Meanwhile, back in civilization, everyone was coming out of the World Meeting, whispering and speculating about America. Germany and Japan were walking together, when N. Italy ran towards them.  
After he caught his breath, he said, "Did you see it? Doitsu! Doitsu, did you see it?"  
Germany stared at him. "Did I see what?"  
"I think he means England and France," said Japan. "They were looking at each other like they wanted to throttle each other - I mean more than usual."  
N. Italy stared at them. "You mean neither of you noticed it?"  
"Noticed what, Italy?" Germany said, losing patience.  
"The piece of America's shirt! England was holding a piece of America's shirt! It looked like it had been torn off! And it... it.."  
"It what?"  
"It had a bloodstain on it," N. Italy said in a small voice.  
Germany and Japan looked at each other, shocked. At last Japan said, "Well, I guess it's just us again."  
Germany smiled weakly. "Achsenmacte."  
"Sujuki kuni," agreed Japan.  
"Asse," added Italy.  
The Axis Powers were back.


	4. Sold For Fifty Rubles

America slowly came to, his mind blurry. All that he was really certain of was that he was warm, there was food in his stomach, and he needed to get out of there right now because someone was trying to kill him. He struggled, but his strength failed him, and he fell back. Slowly he managed to drag his eyes open.  
He was lying on a straw pallet in a house. There was a roaring fire in a huge stone fireplace in the corner of the room, and he could hear low voices coming from another corner. America lifted his head - though the effort made his head swim - and he saw a very tall guy in the corner, whispering with two others. Russia, talking to England and France. England and France. Something about England and - oh! England and France! America whimpered as it all came back to him. The one thing that he couldn't figure out was why Russia had saved him. Russia hated him!  
The three guys noticed that he was awake and went over. England caught him under the chin and forced it up. "Bloody idiot," he muttered. "You should have left him in the snow."  
Russia shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I - vell, I couldn't just leave him to freeze to death, could I?"  
France looked at him and laughed. "You're not going soft, are you, Russia? Zis is America! What use is he to you?"  
Russia looked at America, and the latter saw his eyes grow cold. "None," Russia said. "Fifty rubles, and you can have him. Just fifty."  
America whimpered. "No - please - don't let them, Russia! Don't let them!"  
Russia ignored him. "Fifty rubles," he repeated, holding out his hand.  
America prayed that England would refuse his deal. That was his only hope. But England handed over the money, and they jerked him to his feet. America gasped as colors swam before his eyes. He went limp, and France dropped him in disgust. "Bete," he muttered. America didn't speak French, but he figured that wasn't a very nice name.  
Russia looked at him, and America saw him hesitating. Stop changing your personality and save me! he wanted to shout. But he didn't, of course.  
"He's not strong enough to be moved," said Russia. "He'll die before you're ready. Give him a few more days."  
France looked suspiciously at Russia while England gave the prisoner a scathing look. "Two days," he said. "Two days, no more. And I'd better not find that you've taken the money and left, or you'll regret it." And with that, he swept off, accompanied by a laughing France.  
When they were gone, America looked pleadingly at Russia. Russia noticed and shook his head. "You don't deserve to be caught in the hands of those murderers, but it saves me the trouble of killing you myself. You'd better hope someone rescues you in those two days, or you're volf food." He smiled at the thought.  
America gave up, right then and there. There was no point in hoping - no one was even going to notice his absence, much less trace his disappearance back to England, France, and Russia.  
Russia left to go to the World Meeting. And a little girl in an old-fashioned dress ran off to think about the captive of her brother.


	5. An Unlikely Betrayal

Belarus watched the strange prisoner through a little peephole. She knew Russia's house better than Russia himself did - she'd been spying on him since he was a little girl. She knew all the secret passageways and rooms - including the one that led to the room where Russia was keeping America.  
She watched America alternately sleep and jerk awake, gasping for breath, his eyes wild with terror. Something was wrong. Her brother had looked scared. Him, scared of those silly runts! There must be something very bad going on - something that only she could stop. Belarus considered her options. She could ask Russia about it - but how likely was he to answer, if he was being threatened? She could try going after England and France... no, that was no good, either. If she were captured, Russia would have to comply with whatever demands they had. Hmm...

Well, she could always question America.

And if he refused?

She grinned. That was what her knife was for.

America jerked awake, for the millionth time. Every time he fell asleep, he dreamed of England and France, and the ghost of Rome, seeking revenge. he opened his eyes... and froze.  
There, standing over him, her knife to his throat, was Belarus. Even America could recognize her. Even he knew her reputation, and meeting her in person did nothing to disprove it. There was something wild in her eyes, something cold and terrible that rattled him more than Russia ever could. "W-what do you want?" he stammered.  
Belarus regarded him suspiciously. "My brother," she said. "Is he being threatened? What are England and France up to? Tell me, or I'll slit your throat!"  
America instantly saw the potential in this. If he chose his words carefully here, he could trick her into saving him. These next few minutes could mean the difference between life and death.

He took a deep breath and took the plunge. "England and France... have been chasing me," he said. "They did something... terrible, and I found out. Now they want to kill me. For some reason, your brother... he saved me, when I nearly died in the snow. Now England and France... they're threatening him. They want him to turn me over... I don't really know why he's refusing, but he doesn't want to do it. He mentioned needing me alive to help him with something," he added, for good measure.  
Belarus regarded him with cold eyes. Maybe he was imagining it, but America thought those eyes had softened a bit. "So, I should tell someone," she said.  
"Yes!" America cried. "Yes. Tell..." here he stopped to think. It had to be someone who would not be intimidated by England, France, or Russia, but was not their friend, either. They had to be powerful, too, powerful enough to come and save him. "Tell Germany," he finally decided. "Tell him where I am, and what happened."

Belarus, unsuspecting, obeyed. She wanted to help her brother - it was natural. Unfortunately, she hadn't heard all of the conversation. An unlikely betrayal, indeed.


	6. A Secret To Tell

The Axis Powers were discussing strategy. Who knows where England and France were holding America? And even if they knew where he was, how could they save him? They kept talking, but their conversation kept going around in circles. They couldn't agree on anything, and even Japan was losing his patience, when Germany noticed a little girl coming over.  
They all looked at her - and they all wished they hadn't. This girl, whoever she was, was scary. There was some kind of terrifying aura around her, something that said "Don't mess with me - or else." Belarus, maybe? But why would she be here?  
"Belarus?" Germany asked cautiously.  
Belarus nodded. "America told me to talk to you," she said, fidgeting.  
The Axis Powers looked at each other. "America? Where is he?" Japan questioned.  
"That's what I need to tell you. He's in Russia's house. England and France are threatening my brother, to make him give him over. America said you could help. Can you?" she asked, looking at him with worried eyes. Japan and Germany looked at each other, and guessed what America had done. But then a thought came to Germany, and he stopped. "Warte ein sekunde - wait a second. England **and** France? Together?"

Belarus nodded. Germany and Japan, now doubtful, looked at each other again. This could be a trick of Russia's, to make them think England and France were responsible. "They wouldn't work together," Germany decided. "Would they, Italy? Italy? Italy, what's wrong?"  
Italy was shrinking back from Belarus, a horrified look on his face. "No... they wouldn't," he said slowly, as if the words were hard to get out. "Unless..."

The other two members of the Axis Powers stared at him. "Unless what?" asked Germany.  
Italy shook his head. "I always suspected, but I never thought... This could be the proof i need!"  
Japan asked, "What?"  
Italy hesitated, with a glance at Belarus. Germany saw and nodded at Belarus. "Thanks for your help. We'll... **help** your brother, don't worry." Belarus nodded back and ran off.

"So, Italy," Germany said, lowering his voice. "What are you talking about? What could possibly make England and France work together?"  
"Well... Grandpa Rome conquered them both. They used to be friends, back then. But when he conquered them, they were angry. They used to be the ones who were always rebelling, and stirring up trouble. Then... one day, Grandpa told me he was going to negotiate with some troublesome people who wanted to break apart and be their own nation. I..." Italy choked back a sob. "I never saw him again."

It took a second for the meaning of his words to dawn on the others. "You can't possibly think..." But Italy was serious. They all looked at each other, for the millionth time.  
"I don't know..." worried Germany.  
Italy demanded, "You think I'd accuse them of that if I wasn't -"  
"Let's do this," interrupted Japan.

And they did.


	7. I'm The Hero!

America lay there, shivering uncontrollably. A day had already passed. One more, and his life was over. Where was Belarus? For that matter, where was Russia?  
He heard the heavy footsteps of his captor. America looked up... and knew, if he wanted death, he wouldn't have to wait after all.

Russia was carrying his pipe and a smile that had **pain** and **misery** written all over it. America trembled. The northern nation sat down next to his prisoner, and his grin widened. He began to lightly whack his pipe against his hand. America's shaking grew worse, but he lay absolutely still, petrified with terror. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain.  
He wasn't disappointed. America's torso exploded in pain with the full-force impact of the pipe. He screamed. Through the stars and retching, the large nation faintly heard a loud "kolkolkolkolkol!" But when he finished throwing up, Russia was gone.  
America gasped for breath for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, something seemed to click in his mind. He wouldn't die. He knew that now. Heroes never died!  
Alfred began to smile weakly, taking strength from his old obsessions. He had probably been so serious because he hadn't had a cheeseburger for a few days. Lack of cheeseburgers could do funny things to him. The nation grabbed a bedpost and pushed himself upright. The pain was incredible, but he didn't even feel it. He ripped off a piece of sheet and tied it around his bloody chest. A manic light shone through his eyes. He was the hero!  
"What are you doing, bloody git?!" came a distinctly English voice from the doorway.  
He turned. There were England and France. France grinned. "Bonjour, dead meat."


	8. Do You Smell Something Awesome?

Germany opened the door of the room in which they had been hashing out their plan, and blinked in surprise. "Bruder? What are you doing here?"

Prussia had been walking - strutting, that is - past, when he heard Germany's voice. He paused and heard Italy say, "- killers... Grandpa..."  
Prussia pressed his awesome ear to the door, similar to the way America had done the same thing to a different door, a few days before.  
He heard the whole story - or at least what Germany and Japan knew and Italy was telling. His own awesome knowledge from those days filled in the rest.  
Prussia's awesome heart would have been beating fast, if he had been an actual living being with a actual beating heart. He remembered clearly Rome's death, and later... his own... all his awesomeness, dead on the ground. And then his awesome eyes opening again, no longer their former blue...  
Prussia shook himself. He wondered, briefly, if the whole Holy Rome thing was going to come up again. But he didn't get to think any more, because then Germany opened the door and he fell awesomely on his behind.  
Germany stared down at him. "Bruder?"  
Prussia began to stammer. "I was just, uh... walking past... I just... well, uh... i just heard you, uh, talking... and I th-thought you might be t-talking about the  
a-awesome m-me... I mean, who w-wouldn't be... I'll just stop talking now."

Germany hauled Prussia to his feet. "How much did you hear?" He wasn't fooled for an instant by Prussia's excuses. Ludwig may not have been the most savvy person in the world, but he knew a lie when he heard one.  
"Everything," Prussia replied awesomely. He glanced awesomely at Italy. "Sort of." Italy flushed. How did that totally un-awesome country always manage to be in the middle of all this stuff? He hoped Germany wouldn't find out the truth. It wouldn't be pretty if he did.  
"Everything," he repeated awesomely. "Can the awesome me help?" Germany hesitated, and Prussia's awesome ears perked up. "Please?" he begged awesomely.  
Japan whispered something into Germany's ear. He nodded reluctantly. "Sure."  
"AWESOME!"

P.S. From the Author: Prussia is awesome, especially 'cause he's an undead zombie.


	9. If Only

England sat quietly, gun on his lap. America was unconscious next to him. It had taken some time and a tranquilizer gun to subdue the superpower; his incredible strength meant that France had come away with a broken arm and England with two black eyes. But they had done it. _If only._  
Now America was helpless. All he had to do was point the gun at his head and pull the trigger. _If only._

The trouble was, he couldn't.

England couldn't make himself pull the trigger now any more than he could that fateful night, 200 years ago. He lifted the gun, stared at it, and looked at America. He had to. He didn't have any other choice. _If only._  
But the thought of killing America - _his son_ \- made him want to throw up.  
The nation tentatively touched his son's face. Everything he had ever felt towards America rushed through him, making him shiver. The decision was ripping him apart. He stared at Alfred's closed eyes, his hands shaking. _If only._

Then he knew. He couldn't do it.

Arthur Kirkland closed his eyes and kissed America full on the lips.

Unfortunately, that was when France walked in.

Italy stared at the back of Doitsu's head, wishing and wondering. _If only._  
They were en route to the Paris prison, where England and France were holding America. Russia was tied to a chair in his own house, shaking like a leaf. Germany had been pretty rough with him. Turns out, he could dish it out, but couldn't take it. _If only._  
Germany had fallen asleep in the car. Italy's hands trembled with the incredible urge to stroke his friend's hair. _If only._  
He couldn't stop thinking about Holy Rome, about the days when he and the man now sleeping next to him were children. About their first and only kiss. _If only._  
If only Holy Rome had stayed! If only Italy had gone with him! _If only, if only._  
Italy couldn't help himself. He leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on the back of Doitsu's neck.

Germany woke up.


	10. Enter The Random All-Knowing Mary Sue

Germany's eyes fluttered open. He realized he had fallen asleep in the car. The nation started to shift hen he suddenly felt the touch of lips on the back of his neck.  
He jerked up and whirled around. There was Italy, looking as red as a tomato and more terrified than Germany had ever seen him. It took him a second to comprehend what had just happened, and then he blushed. He couldn't help it. Prussia was sitting there looking amused, and Germany could do nothing but just sit there gaping, the back of his neck and - oh, horror of horrors - the inside of his thighs tingling. He swallowed. "Um..."

Italy looked like he was ready to die on the spot. "Um..."

"It never happened," said the German quickly. Italy nodded in agreement and they pretended not to see each other. But Doitsu shifted in his seat, and his hand accidentally brushed Italy's leg. The boy choked, and Germany's ears went bright red. Prussia was smothering his laughter. He whispered, loud enough for the stronger nation to hear, "You might as well tell him the truth..."

Germany whirled around. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "What do you mean, tell me the truth?" Italy gaped at him, then whirled around and did something totally unexpected. He smacked Prussia across his awesome face and yelled, "Why did you have to say that? It's over, understand? The past is the past!" Then he buried his head in his arms and sobbed. Germany looked at the back of Japan's neck, which was bright red with uncomfortableness, and decided not to pursue the matter. Instead he filed Prussia's comment and Italy's reaction away, ready to pull it out at some more opportune time.

France gaped at the romantic scene unfolding between his reluctant partner and their unwilling victim. Every perverted cell of his body longed to grab a video camera and some popcorn and just watch. But this was not his usual porn night. This was serious. He had trusted England with the job of killing America, which had obviously been a mistake. The nation cursed himself for not remembering that England still harbored feelings for America. Controlling his physical reaction at the sight, the Frenchman strode across the room and ripped the two apart. He snatched the gun and hissed, "You should have told me to do it if you knew you were too sensitive." He aimed.

England didn't think. He jumped up and blocked the bullet with his own body. By every known law of the universe, he should have died right then and there, protecting his son. But Fate intervened.

"Get away from my friend, _pavainikis_." France stared at his empty hand, then at the gun on the floor, then at the hole in the wall instead of America's head. He slowly turned around, raising his hands in the air. There, aiming a gun directly at his head, was the last person anyone would have expected. It was not one of the Axis. It was not some all-powerful nation like... well, I guess like America.

It was Lithuania.

France stared. The Axis, who had just arrived, stared. England stared. Prussia, who knew Lithuania all too well, scowled.

America began to snore.

Everyone except Prussia and America goggled at the newcomer. "What- how-" France sputtered.

"I've been one step ahead of you this whole time, _pavainikis_. You think I wouldn't have noticed that Russia was keeping America prisoner? Or that Belarus had gone to tell Germany? Or that-" he gestured with his gun towards Prussia "- I wouldn't have been watching _him_?" (Prussia looked at Lithuania like he was going to throttle him right then and there.) "Now lie down on your stomach and don't struggle, and maybe the UN will be lenient. America especially is not going to be happy."

In the end, Prussia left Lithuania alone, France and England surrendered, Russia got untied and nearly killed Lithuania, Lithuania took the beating good-naturedly and went to live with America, America was furious and was annoying everyone for months by proclaiming that "THE HERO IS NOT HAPPY!" and Germany and Italy... well, that's a story for another time.

THE END

(I didn't make up the Prussia-and-Lithuania-hating-each-other thing. The was a time when they were huge rivals. Look it up. )


End file.
